


Humanitarian Aid

by DancingGrimm



Category: Toriko (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Anal Sex, Casual Sex, First Time, Gang Violence, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-24
Updated: 2015-10-24
Packaged: 2018-04-27 22:38:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5067304
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DancingGrimm/pseuds/DancingGrimm
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Match isn't the most sociable of men, but every now and then somebody leaves an impression on him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Humanitarian Aid

**Author's Note:**

> This was written ages ago, around the time of the storyline where Komatsu won the knife from the chopping board competition at the temple. It's been up on FFN for ages, and I'm only just posting it here because...reasons.  
> Enjoy :)

Match never considered himself a very sociable man. He looked after his people, he looked after the kids who ended up on his turf, and that was it, his circle. Every now and then though, somebody would make an impression on him.

  
  


Like a kid sitting in the middle of a rowdy bar, sipping tea. Politely telling Match that his scars were proof of his weakness, like he thought he was invincible. After leaving Life, he’d seen Takimaru only once, when they went to Komatsu’s restaurant. They hadn’t spoken really, not beyond deciding they agreed on how talented Komatsu was. Again, Match wasn’t the most sociable of men. That weird kid who threw his arms up in the air and cheered like the child a person his age should still be, he was a million miles away from Match and his kind.

  
  


Still, whenever the Gourmet Knights were mentioned, his mind always switched to Takimaru’s face. He couldn’t help but be just a little possessive, think of the kid as being _his_ knight. Not ‘his’ in a bitch way, or an under-his-thumb way.

  
  


More like the ‘anyone lays a hand on _his_ knight and he’ll carve them up so small they could fit through the holes in a sieve’ kind of way. The _healthy_ way.

  
  


Yeah, every now and then somebody would make a lasting impression.

  
  


...

  
  


One evening at the partially wrecked mansion that they were based in over the winter, Match overheard some of his guys listening to the radio and Toriko’s name caught his ear, so he joined them long enough to listen. Something had gone down at Acacia’s temple and Toriko was pleased about it, whatever it was. Then the presenter announced that they’d caught up with chef Komatsu for his first ever live radio interview, and the little guy’s nervous voice offered a greeting to the world at large.

  
  


“That the guy you know, boss?” one of his guys asked him. Match nodded and waved at him to be quiet.

  
  


The reporter was asking Komatsu about what had gone on that day, something to do with a knife and a seed, and then they had a few questions about the Century Soup, as usual. Then another reporter, a woman with an annoying voice, shouted:

  
  


“Chef Komatsu, what do you think of the situation in Nerg City?”

  
  


“Situation?” Komatsu’s voice asked.

  
  


“What do you think of the Yakuza’s claim on the city and their black market food activities?” the woman amended.

  
  


“Well...I think that they’re feeding people who would starve otherwise. It’s not an ideal way to do it, but at least they aren’t letting people die or pretending it’s not happening, I guess.”

  
  


There were a few seconds of complete silence on the air, during which everyone in the room turned and looked at Match. He couldn’t help it, he started laughing. On the radio, he could just make out the sound of Toriko laughing too.

  
  


That damn chef! He probably didn’t even realise what he’d just said, what it implied. So, every other government was letting people die and pretending it wasn’t happening, were they? At least that was what everybody would be asking. Match couldn’t feel mad at the little guy though. If nothing else, it wasn’t often that they got any good press.

  
  


Nobody was going to leave a comment like that alone. It would be all over the news services today, and tomorrow...well, nobody was going to let it slide.

  
  


...

  
  


Match warned Ryu about the broadcast, that there might be some kind of response, but it was nearly a month before anything happened.

  
  


After a lot of debate, the IGO agreed to send a survey team into Nerg, which they hadn’t done in the better part of thirty years, to get an up to date idea of what was happening in the city. Then a charitable organisation not associated with the IGO (at least on paper) made arrangements to set up a clinic in the centre of the city, not far from the main base of the Yakuza. Ryu liked the idea, it was one thing to feed people but another to give them medical care, and there was no doubt it was needed. The previous winter an outbreak of Rictus Disease had caused a lot of deaths in the city and there hadn’t been a damn thing any of them could do. The Yakuza could fight and hunt but they didn’t know how to treat illness. This clinic they that was in the works, the staff would immunize the children against all kinds of illnesses, then train locals in first aid and nursing so the professionals could serve a couple of months a piece and then switch out once they’d done their charity bit for the year. It wasn’t like having a working hospital, but it gave folks a fighting chance.

  
  


Match was instructed to get in touch with the charity organisers and tell them that the Yakuza would ensure the safety of the set up team while they were in the city. And in doing that, he found out that the Knights had arranged to send one of their own to guard the team while they travelled. Though it wasn’t strictly their purview, it _was_ a humanitarian mission, which was just their kind of thing.

  
  


No way it would be Takimaru though. That would be too much of a coincidence.

  
  


...

  
  


Match and a few of his men went out to wait for the set up team on the mass of concrete that had once been known as the Angel Arch Bridge, long since collapsed. It was the easiest route into the city for land vehicles, they hadn’t even had to ask to know that the team would be coming in that way, and sure enough, not long after dawn, the shapes of a travelling party appeared in the distance.

  
  


One jeep, the kind with a flatbed and a tarp pulled over all the equipment in the back. Two quad bikes, each with a couple of people on, a good idea given the state the roads were in through most of the city. And one guy on a horse.

  
  


It wouldn’t be Takimaru though, that would just be weird.

  
  


The party drew closer, the quad bikes picking a path through the rubble for the jeep to follow. The horseman was keeping pace, scanning their surroundings carefully. Match could see that the knight wore the same head wrap as Takimaru, same tattoo under his eye. Weird that the knights had a uniform, he never would have expected them all to dress the same.

  
  


It wasn’t Takimaru though.

  
  


Match kept repeating that to himself, right up until the party got onto the bridge, and Takimaru jumped down from his horse and shouted a greeting to them.

  
  


“Hello again Match-san! Thank you for coming to meet us,” he yelled. The rest of the little party faltered at the sight of them, but Takimaru waved them forward, leading his horse over the craggy concrete wreckage by the reins.

  
  


“Match-san is the vice boss,” he told the rest of the party, apparently oblivious to their nerves. “He’ll make sure you’re safe, don’t worry.”

  
  


Match sighed. The guy was doing it again, acting improperly. Not even being rude, but just getting on his fucking nerves.

  
  


He greeted the doctor who was leading the group, a twitchy old guy putting on a cheerful act. Then there were his nurses, a young man and woman who could have been brother and sister, along with two engineers and an electrician.

  
  


“We found a suitable building for your clinic,” he told them as he turned towards the other end of the bridge. “It doesn’t have much going for it, but it’s still sturdy and has an electrical supply and water mains. That’s all you need, right?”

  
  


“A-ah, yes, yes. Apart from those things, we have equipment for every other need,” the old doctor said. Match nodded, his attention elsewhere.

  
  


On the roof of a bullet pocked store house about half a mile away, several figures were gathered, watching them. He beckoned his second, Aki, over to his side and leaned close to talk to him, so the little party, climbing back into their vehicles, wouldn’t hear.

  
  


“Those people, go and find out who they are. Deal with them.”

  
  


Aki nodded and darted off between the two nearest buildings, from where he’d wind a path around and sneak up on the watchers.

  
  


They were the only people they saw on the way to the building Ryu had picked out. Or at least, the only people who could have been a threat. As they got out into the main streets, near a cluster of buildings that were still safe to shelter in, a bunch of kids came running up all ‘ _Uncle Match, Uncle Match_ ’, touching his coat tails because they thought it was lucky and peering at the people following him. The two in the jeep looked horrified, like they were waiting for him to take his sword to the kids. Takimaru took it in stride though, cheerily calling the children over and encouraging his horse to lower its head so they could pat its nose.

  
  


It was probably the first time a horse had been seen in Nerg for decades. After the Open Ground conflict, the city wall had still been intact, trapping everyone inside and people had ended up eating any animals they could get, and after that there wasn’t enough food spare to keep livestock fed. The kids were thrilled, as he should have expected.

  
  


That broke the tension a little, which slightly disappointed Match as he valued an opportunity to see how people acted under stress. But no, they went the rest of the way with three little kids perched together, giggling, in the horse’s saddle and another one sitting up on Takimaru’s shoulders. More of them were climbing all over the quad bikes and the two people driving them kept stopping to let them swap on and off. So, it wasn’t a dignified procession.

  
  


As much as he loved the kids, Match was relieved to get to the clinic site without acquiring any more of them. The building had once been a bank, and its sturdy structure had been standing for over a century. The walls were thick, with small windows and a heavy wooden door, the bars on the inside still intact. Ryu had picked it for its defensibility as much as the intact power supply, but he doubted any of the party, except maybe Takimaru, would realise the value of that right away. They’d learn when it happened.

  
  


Match was watching them unload their gear from the jeep and carry it into the building, waiting for a decent moment to leave and let some of his men take over, when Aki returned with bruises on his face and blood spotted on his sleeves.

  
  


“It’s those guys from over the West wall, Aniki,” he said tightly. “Seems like they know all about what these guys are bringing with them.”

  
  


Match sighed. “You put them down? All of them?”

  
  


“Yeah.”

  
  


“Well, they’ll get nervous when their scouts don’t come back, and I doubt they’ll be brave enough to send anyone this far into our territory. Probably hoped to catch the group as they got off the bridge.”

  
  


“Is there a problem?” Takimaru asked, appearing at his side with a worried look on his face.

  
  


“Probably not,” Match replied, turning back to Aki. “Get some people to the West wall, make sure nobody else gets over tonight. Once everything’s set up, they’ll be less likely to try anything.”

  
  


Aki nodded and ran off at a steady loping pace, the way they all ran after so many years living among piles of rubble. Takimaru watched him leave, uneasy.

  
  


“Match-san, are the team safe here?”

  
  


“As safe as we can make them,” Match replied shortly, and turned to go into the building. He’d feel better once he’d checked the defences himself, maybe educated the doctor a little about the situation, the different factions in the city. Takimaru followed at his elbow.

  
  


...

  
  


By nightfall the team had all their equipment safely inside the building and the water was working. No electricity though, no heat. There was a Yakuza crash house, an old place that had once been a high rise hotel but was now a two story dorm, about a quarter of a mile away, and Match gathered up a couple of his guys (and one of the women, help the female nurse feel a little better) to take them over there and make sure they were safe as they slept. There was even a little fenced in area that had once been a courtyard, just the thing for the horse.

  
  


Aki still hadn’t come back, but he’d sent a messenger. Nobody was trying to climb the wall, not while there were Yakuza present. Warmed Match’s heart to hear it.

  
  


The team had kind of impressed him. They were hard workers, sensible ones too, clear headed once they shook off their nerves. After their little talk, the doctor spent most of the day trying to keep Takimaru between himself and Match, but he couldn’t say that it bothered him. Once he announced they were going to be spending the night somewhere else, they just dealt, checking everything was safe, tidying their equipment away and putting the seals back on their medicine cases. Then the electrician, carefully sorting his tools into their storage boxes, looked up and asked;

  
  


“What about our equipment? Can we leave it here safely?”

  
  


“Sure, the building’s secure and it’s in the centre of our territory. People round here, they know better than to mess with this place.”

  
  


The electrician got to his feet, frowning. “That’s all well and good, but you can’t know for sure, right? Those men who were watching us from that roof earlier, what if they show up again? They weren’t your men, right?” Match’s face must have given something away, because the guy seemed to think he’d scored on him. “Yeah, see? You’re not as much in control as you like to think, are you?”

  
  


“Those men won’t be back.”

  
  


“How can you be _sure_?”

  
  


Match kept hold of his composure, pushed up his sleeve and looked at his watch.

  
  


“They’ve been dead for about eight hours now. The group that sent them to scout are being watched by my second. He’ll kill the rest of them if they make trouble, and they know it. That’s how I can be sure.”

  
  


Silence filled the room like a pall of smoke. It wasn’t like Match didn’t realise that the team wouldn’t like hearing that, that it’d freak them out, but better they learned who and what they were dealing with now rather than later.

  
  


Takimaru stepped up to him, smiling that modest little smile of his.

  
  


“I hope that your second isn’t in any danger Match-san. But it’s good to know that we’re all safe, right?” When this got little response beyond a nervous nurse dropping a box on the floor, Takimaru gulped and tried again. “Just to make sure, why don’t I stay here tonight? I’m used to sleeping outdoors, so the cold won’t be a problem, and I have my bedroll with me. I can look after everything.”

  
  


The doctor eyed Takimaru worriedly, glancing from him to Match. Match knew exactly what he was thinking; Takimaru could hold his own in a fight, but if he hadn’t seen it with his own eyes he wouldn’t believe it either. The kid looked like he’d snap from a hard sneeze.

  
  


“You’re sure you’d be okay on your own, Taki-kun?” The doctor began. “I don’t like the idea of leaving you-”

  
  


“I’ll stay with him,” Match sighed. “Or I’ll have somebody else do it if it’d make you feel better. It’ll be dark soon, so get ready to move.” He turned and left the building, Takimaru’s call of “Thank you, Match-san!” ringing out behind him. The group he’d asked for were out in the street waiting, and he explained that he’d be staying there for the night.

  
  


“Boss, is he really that bad?” one of the men asked.

  
  


“No, just...” Match waved off the question. He couldn’t be bothered to explain.

  
  


...

  
  


So that’s how he ended up spending the night in an abandoned bank turned clinic with a knight. After all the clinic staff had cleared out, he left for long enough to go back to Ryu’s and explain what was happening (and get laughed at), then returned to find that Takimaru had swept out the back room to make a clean space to lay down his bedroll.

  
  


“You’d make a decent wife,” Match told him, and he just laughed and wiped his forehead with his dusty hand, leaving a grey swipe across the half of his face that wasn’t obscured by his hair.

  
  


Not long after, another of Match’s men, Isamu, came by with a futon and some battery powered lights for him, and returned about half an hour after that with two metal containers of food, steam creeping out from under the lids. Takimaru was sitting in on the floor in the main room, reading an anatomy text book. Match remembered him pulling bits of that Bogie guy’s bones out of his body and wondered how much more he thought he needed to know.

  
  


“Dinner,” he said handing him the plate. Takimaru accepted it with a warm smile, waiting until Match had sat down next to him before he took the lid off it. Match recognised the scent of the meal right away. Vegetable curry and rice, the cheaply made but nutritious sort of stuff that Nerg people were so good at. Isamu’s girl, Yuuko, would cook it up in huge pots, handing it out to whoever wanted it, yakuza and otherwise. He opened his own container and took the pair of plastic chopsticks from inside the lid, then followed Takimaru’s lead and dug in.

  
  


To his surprise, Takimaru was a hearty eater, ploughing through his food with enthusiasm and enjoyment, and he had cleaned his dish thoroughly before Match was even halfway through his. It was only then that it occurred to him that the curry, despite its basic ingredients, was kind of rich.

  
  


“Is it okay for you to eat this? Knights are supposed to eat plain foods, right?”

  
  


“It’s okay. The idea is that we shouldn’t eat anything manufactured or unnatural, and that we shouldn’t eat more than we need to. Curry’s fine.”

  
  


Match wasn’t sure why he was suddenly curious, but he saw no reason not to ask. “What else do you have to give up in the Knights?”

  
  


“Why, are you thinking of joining us?” Takimaru asked mischievously. Match opened his mouth to tell him off, but Takimaru cheerily waved the joke away. “It’s not quite as harsh as most people seem to think. We have to stick to simple foods yes, and avoid alcohol and synthesized medicines, though we can use natural remedies. We give ourselves over to nature, in fact, so we’re encouraged to learn about human anatomy and also to learn how our bodies and minds work together, so we can understand our feelings and, you know, urges.”

  
  


“Hm.” There was something about the way he phrased it that seemed...either naive or provocative, and Match couldn’t decide which. “Do you guys have to have a vow of chastity or something?” he asked.

  
  


Takimaru smiled again. “No, a lot of people think that. But we’re not like monks, we can have relationships if we want. The doctrine’s mostly against marriage though. It’s believed that attraction is natural and shouldn’t have limits placed on it...though most knights who start a relationship see it through.” He glanced at Match’s face and must have seen surprise there. “People usually don’t expect that, that a philosophical doctrine should condone its followers sleeping around. But it’s nature. Surely that makes sense?”

  
  


“Yeah,” Match replied.

  
  


“I’m a bit odd among the knights I suppose, because I don’t. But I always thought, well, I’m young.”

  
  


“You’re a virgin?” Match asked.

  
  


Takimaru nodded, seemingly unsurprised by Match’s abrupt question. “It’s not like I don’t want to have sex,” he continued. “I just haven’t. Yet.”

  
  


Match scooped the last of his rice into his mouth and took his time over chewing it, then put the empty dish on top of Takimaru’s.

  
  


“You want to?” he asked.

  
  


“...Yes.”

  
  


Rare that things went that easy, Match thought.

  
  


...

  
  


Takimaru’s bedroll looked about as comfortable as a piece of sacking, so Match took it off him before he could unroll it and handed him the futon instead, let the kid unwrap it and spread it out while he switched on the electric lamps and found the hooks in the ceiling to hang them from. Watching the younger man bustle about, he wondered what had prompted him to ask, to undertake the task of relieving Takimaru of his virginity.

  
  


Then Takimaru bent over to untie his boots and Match felt it all make sense to him.

  
  


The kid was good looking, no doubt about that. And there was something about him, some energy or something like that, that Match couldn’t deny he was drawn to. And for whatever reason, he seemed pretty happy to accept Match as a lover, though anyone knew Match was no looker. Not just happy, actually, Takimaru seemed pretty damned excited, if the speed with which he cast off his clothes was any indication. It was kind of flattering.

  
  


Match got undressed in a more relaxed manner, Takimaru’s eyes following his every move. With his head wrap off, the kid had smoothed his hair down to keep it over his weird eye and he kept habitually reaching up to check the eye was still covered. Match made himself resist the urge to reach over and push it out of his face.

  
  


Match pulled back the quilt on the futon and slipped under it, holding it up for Takimaru to climb in with him. The futon was old and battered, but still thickly padded, the fabric worn to a pleasant softness. Snuggling under the quilt, Takimaru showed his first touch of nerves, avoiding looking Match in the eye.

  
  


Match lay down next to him and pulled him close, making him gasp as they were pressed together down the length of their bodies.

  
  


“Just ‘cause you said yes once, I’m not going to hold you to it,” he told Takimaru.

  
  


“I know,” the kid replied, and carefully slid his arm around Match’s waist. “I want to.”

  
  


Match nodded and nudged Takimaru over onto his back. Pushed his legs apart and knelt between them. Takimaru shivered, but gamely kept his legs well spread, tucking his feet around Match’s hips. His eyes tracked down Match’s body, apparently fascinated.

  
  


“Even there,” he said faintly, staring at Match’s groin, and Match repressed a sigh. Yes, there were scars even there. Half expecting Takimaru to pick now to shy away, he was more relieved than he’d like to admit when the kid lifted himself on his elbows and craned forward to get a better look. “That must have been terribly painful,” he said, his voice full of sympathy.

  
  


“That was the point,” Match replied.

  
  


“Does it still hurt?”

  
  


“Not when it’s soft, not when it’s hard. Sometimes when it’s halfway though.”

  
  


Takimaru reached out and gave his cock a squeeze, following the lines of scar tissue with his fingertips as if his touch would help it heal. Actually, Match thought, he would barely be surprised if that happened. The kid was weird.

  
  


Match pushed him back down and lay on top of him, holding himself up on one elbow. Takimaru looked down between their bodies with apparent fascination, as Match reached down and squeezed their cocks together in his hand. Takimaru’s was smooth and pink and fresh looking, like a newly ripened fruit. The kid made a soft little grunt at the sensation.

  
  


“Like this, or do want me to fuck you?” he asked.

  
  


“Fuck me,” Takimaru replied, no shyness now, which Match liked.

  
  


“Lift your legs,” he told him, and Takimaru practically folded himself in half, which was fairly impressive. Match licked his fingers and pressed the tip of one to the little wrinkled knot of Takimaru’s ass hole. The tip slid in nicely, but Match quickly realised that this wasn’t going to cut it. Not for the kid’s first time.

  
  


Sitting up and shifting to the edge of the futon, he looked over at the medical cases stacked a few feet away, trying to remember which one it had been he’d seen that tube in. He pulled one off the stack and flipped it open. Damn.

  
  


“What are you doing, Match-san?”

  
  


“Looking for...here.” Second try was lucky. He got himself back to Takimaru, already opening the lube.

  
  


“Given that we’re here to prevent their supplies from being taken-”

  
  


“You want a sore ass? Besides, we’re using it for the same thing they want it for.” More or less.

  
  


He spread the smooth cream over his fingers and rubbed it around Takimaru’s hole, then managed to slide one finger in, all the way to the knuckle. Takimaru shivered and Match leaned down a little further, putting them a little closer together. Takimaru lowered his legs enough to rest his heels on Match’s back, as he worked his middle finger in.

  
  


“You’re tight,” he said.

  
  


“You may recall, I’m a virgin,” Takimaru told him. Match curled his finger and made him squeak.

  
  


“I mean you need to relax,” Match told him. “This’ll be tough if you’re this tense.”

  
  


“Give...give me a minute...”

  
  


Takimaru took a deep breath and shut his eyes and, for a moment, tensed up so much that Match wondered if he should pull his fingers out or risk losing them. But then, with the release of the breath, the kid practically liquefied, his body and face relaxing completely, the firm flesh of his hole softening around Match’s fingers.

  
  


“Better,” Match said.

  
  


“That feels...nice,” Takimaru murmured.

  
  


“It’ll feel better in a minute,” Match assured him and flexed and spread his fingers inside him, getting him good and ready. He rearranged Takimaru’s legs around him, but despite the kid’s relaxation, he felt they needed...he grabbed Takimaru’s still-folded bedroll from the floor, squashed it a bit flatter, and hefted the boy’s hips up to tuck it underneath him. Much better.

  
  


All ready now, Takimaru panting with arousal under him, his own cock drooling moisture, but...he stopped as it occurred to him; this was Takimaru’s first time and he hadn’t mentioned anyone else. Had he even had a kiss from anyone?

  
  


Match wasn’t any kind of romantic, but damned if he was going to pop the kid’s cherry without giving him a kiss. He knew he wasn’t much good at it, but he leaned down and pressed his mouth to Takimaru’s, tongued his lips apart and licked around inside his mouth. Little snuffing breaths from Takimaru’s nose brushed over his cheek, and when he pulled back the young man licked his lips happily, like a cat.

  
  


Now they were ready to go.

  
  


Match lined up and eased the tip of his dick into the slick little hole making Takimaru gasp, then shifted his hips until he was sure he had the angle right, and pushed home. Another deep gasp and clenching fingers on his shoulders as he slowly slid into the kid’s body, slow and steady, until he was in to the root and they both had to stay still for a second and just breathe.

  
  


Every nerve in his body was screaming for him to fuck hard, but he restrained himself as tightly as he could, pumping his cock slow and careful in that clinging channel, sweat building between them, Takimaru’s heels digging into his back. Takimaru’s hair was splayed out around his head and it occurred to Match that he was an idiot for taking so much effort trying to hide that damn eye of his, but he couldn’t make himself care.

  
  


The young man’s body was opening up to him more with every stroke, accepting him, like it was moulding around him, and against his best intentions he was thrusting harder and harder. Didn’t matter though, Takimaru was right there with him, bucking up into every movement he made, grunting low in his throat in a way that sent prickles down Match’s spine. His thighs were squeezed tight around Match’s waist, opening him up even more, and he twisted, trying to rub his dick against Match’s belly.

  
  


Match took pity on him and reached between them to take him in hand, not entirely surprised when the first touch of his fingers drew a yowl from Takimaru, and the kid quivered and clenched as he came.

  
  


The grip of his arms and legs loosened and he flopped back onto the futon, creamy semen dribbling up his belly towards his chest as Match gave him a few more leisurely thrusts and came inside him, holding himself deep while his orgasm shuddered through his body.

  
  


They both lay there, panting for several minutes, hot and sticky and increasingly more uncomfortable, until Match gathered the wherewithal to pull out. He knelt up, tugged the bedroll out from under Takimaru and shakily got to his feet, tossing the tube of lubricant back into the medical case.

  
  


Takimaru looked up at him with sleepy eyes and a vague smile. “That was very good, Match-san,” he said sleepily. “Thank you.”

  
  


Match nodded and turned to pick up his sword from where he’d propped it against the wall. By the time he turned back, Takimaru was fast asleep, still spread out on his back. Match switched off the lamps, lay his sword and his pants down next to the futon, just in case, then rolled Takimaru onto his side and got under the quilt behind him.

  
  


Yeah, that _had_ been good. It didn’t take him long to fall asleep.

  
  


...

  
  


Match wasn’t sure whether it was the weak dawn light coming in through the little window that woke him, or the sound of Aki opening the clinic door. Whichever it was, it didn’t disturb Takimaru who was sleeping like a corpse. Match propped himself up on one arm and waited for the inevitable.

  
  


He could hear Aki moving quietly around the outer room, somebody else less stealthily following him, their hushed voices wondering aloud if he and the knight had slept in the same room. After a short period of speculation, the door to the back room creaked open and Aki cautiously stuck his head through the gap.

  
  


“Uh...good morning Aniki,” he said, his eyes taking in the two sets of clothes heaped by the bed, Takimaru’s sleek dark hair sticking out from between the futon and the quilt.

  
  


“Anything happen last night?” Match asked “With you, I mean.”

  
  


“No, no it was quiet.”

  
  


“Good.” Match wondered briefly if he should tell Aki what happened, but...what was there to tell that he couldn’t figure out for himself?

  
  


“Hey, send somebody to check on Takimaru’s horse. Take it to that park where the Bleak Sorority camp used to be. It can eat the grass.”

  
  


“Sure Aniki,” Aki said quietly, and left, closing the door.

  
  


With a sigh, Match lay back down, listened to find out what his second would make of things.

  
  


“Match-aniki wants us to check on his lover’s horse,” Aki told the other guy.

  
  


“Aniki has a lover? Who?”

  
  


“Baka, the guy with the horse!”

  
  


Yeah, Aki would be okay.

  
  


Takimaru made a gurgling noise, twitched, and woke up, going from groggy to fresh as a daisy in about three seconds flat.

  
  


“Good morning Match-san.”

  
  


“Yeah.”

  
  


“What time is it?”

  
  


“It’s only just after dawn. It’ll be a while before the clinic staff get here.” Match peeled himself out of the warm futon and opened the door into the main room to find that his two men had left, leaving a wash basin and a big jug of steaming water behind them. Kind of cute, the way they looked after him.

  
  


“You can wash first. Hurry and do it before the water gets cold,” he told Takimaru.

  
  


“Match-san, I couldn’t possibly-”

  
  


“Don’t be chivalrous, you’re in much worse of a mess than me,” Match pointed out, directing his gaze at the dried smear of semen that covered most of Takimaru’s stomach. Takimaru looked down at himself, then with a wordless smile went out to wash. Match picked his own clothes out of the pile and started shaking them out to freshen them.

  
  


“You going to be okay to ride today?” he called out to Takimaru.

  
  


“Ah, possibly not. But it’ll be fine.”

  
  


“Really? How long until you have to travel back?”

  
  


Takimaru looked up as Match moved into the doorway. He was crouching by the basin wringing out a threadbare washcloth. “I’m here as long as the doctor is. Then I’m to guide him back out of the city,” he said. “About a month, probably.”

  
  


“A month, huh?” Match responded.

  
  


“I-is that a problem?” Takimaru asked, and for once he actually looked nervous, like a naked eighteen year old who’d just lost his virginity.

  
  


“No problem,” Match assured him. His mind strayed to a room in the winter mansion, an old bookcase which held, among other things, a battered copy of the Kama Sutra. He’d always wanted to take a closer look at that, and something told him Takimaru wouldn’t shy away from it either. The kid was bendy.

  
  


“Stay as long as you like,” Match told him, and Takimaru gave him a smile like there was nothing on earth to be worried about.


End file.
